Читать книгу Gunfights & Revolutions (Texas War Trilogy) - Gustave Aimard - Страница 11

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There is an incomprehensible fact, which we were many times in a position to appreciate, during the adventurous course of our lengthened wanderings in America—that a man will at times feel the approach of a misfortune, though unable to account for the feeling he suffers from; he knows that he is menaced, though unable to tell when the peril will come, or in what way it will arrive; the day seems to grow more gloomy, the sunbeams lose their brilliancy, external objects assume a mournful appearance; there are strange murmurs in the air; all, in a word, seems to feel the impression of a vague and undefined restlessness.

Though nothing occurred to justify the Captain's fears after his altercation with the Pawnee, not only he, but the whole population of the colony felt under the weight of dull terror on the evening of this day.

At six o'clock, as usual, the bell was rung to recall the wood-cutters and herds; all had returned, the beasts were shut up in their respective stalls, and, apparently, at any rate nothing out of the common troubled the calm existence of the colonists.

Sergeant Bothrel and his comrades, who had pursued Monkey-face for several hours, had only found the horse the Indian so audaciously carried off, and which he probably abandoned, in order to hide his trail more effectually.

Although no Indian sign was visible in the vicinity of the colony, the Captain, more anxious than he wished to appear, had doubled the sentries intended to watch over the common safety, and ordered the Sergeant to patrol round the entrenchments every two hours.

When all these precautions had been taken, the family and servants assembled on the ground floor of the tower to spend the evening, as had been their wont ever since the beginning of the settlement.

The Captain, sitting in an easy chair by the fire, for the nights were beginning to become fresh, was reading an old work on Military Tactics, while Mrs. Watt, with the servants, was engaged in mending the household linen.

This evening, however, the Captain, instead of reading, seemed to be thinking profoundly, with his arms crossed on his chest, and his eyes fixed on the fire.

At last he raised his head, and turned to his wife—

"Do you not hear the children crying?" he said.

"I really do not know what is the matter with them to-day," she answered, "for we cannot quiet them; Betsy has been with them for more than an hour, and has not been able to get them to sleep."

"You should go yourself, my dear, that would be more proper than leaving these things to the care of a servant."

Mrs. Watt went out without answering, and her voice could soon be heard on the upper floor, where was the children's room.

"So, Sergeant," the Captain went on, addressing the old soldier, who was busy in a corner mending a yoke, "you found it impossible to catch up that accursed heathen, who threw me so roughly this morning?"

"We could not even see him, Captain," the Sergeant replied: "these Indians are like lizards, they slip through anywhere. Luckily I found Boston again; the poor brute seemed delighted at seeing me again."

"Yes, yes. Boston is a noble brute, I should have been vexed to lose him. The heathen has not wounded him, I hope, for you know that these demons are accustomed to treat horses badly."

"There is nothing the matter with him as far as I can see; the Indian was probably compelled to leap off his back in a hurry upon finding us so close at his heels."

"It must be so, Sergeant. Have you examined the neighbourhood carefully?"

"With the greatest attention, Captain, but I noticed nothing suspicious. The Redskins will look twice before attacking us: we gave them too rude a shaking for them to forget it."

"I am not of your opinion, Sergeant; the pagans are vindictive; I am convinced that they would like to avenge themselves on us, and that some day, before long perhaps, we shall hear them utter their war-yell in the valley."

"I do not desire it, it is true; but I believe, if they attempted it, they would sing small."

"I think so too; but they would give us a sorrowful surprise, especially now that, through our labours and our care, we are on the point of receiving the price of our fatigues, and beginning to see the end of our troubles."

"That is true, it would be vexatious, for the losses an attack from these bandits would entail on us are incalculable."

"Unluckily, we can only keep on our guard, and it will be impossible for us to foil the plans which these Red demons are doubtless ruminating against us. Have you placed the sentinels as I recommended, Sergeant?"

"Yes, Captain, and I ordered them to display the utmost watchfulness; I do not believe that the Pawnees can surprise us, however clever they may be."

"We cannot take our oath of anything, Sergeant," the Captain answered, as he shook his head with a doubtful air.

At this moment, and as if accident wished to confirm his views, the bell hung outside, and which was used to tell the colonists someone desired to come in, was rung violently.

"What does that mean?" the Captain exclaimed, as he looked at a clock on the wall in front of him; "it is nearly eight o'clock, who can come so late? Have not all our men returned?"

"All, Captain, there is no one outside the palisades." James Watt rose, seized his rifle, and making the Sergeant a sign to follow him, prepared to go out.

"Where are you going, my love?" a gentle, anxious voice asked him.

The Captain turned; his wife had re-entered the keeping room unnoticed by him.

"Did you not hear the bell?" he asked her; "someone wishes to come in."

"Yes, I heard it, dear," she replied; "but do you intend to open the gate at this hour?"

"I am the head of this colony, madam," the Captain answered, coldly but firmly; "and at such an hour as this it is my duty to open the gate, for there may be danger in doing it, and I must give to all an example of courage and accomplishment of duty."

At this moment the bell pealed a second time.

"Let us go," the Captain added, turning to the Sergeant.

His wife made no reply. She fell into a chair, pale and trembling with anxiety.

In the meanwhile the Captain had gone out, followed by Bothrel and four hunters, all armed with rifles.

The night was dark. There was not a star in the heavens, which were black as ink. Two paces ahead it was impossible to distinguish objects, and a cold breeze whistled fitfully. Bothrel had taken down a lanthorn to guide him through the room.

"How is it," the Captain said, "that the sentry at the drawbridge has not challenged?"

"Perhaps he is afraid of giving an alarm, knowing, as he did, that we should hear the bell from the tower."

"Hum!" the Captain muttered between his teeth.

They walked onward. Presently they heard a sound of voices, to which they listened. It was the sentry speaking.

"Patience!" he said. "Someone is coming. I see a lanthorn shining. You will only have a few moments longer to wait, though for your own sake I recommend you not to stir, or I shall put a bullet into you."

"Hang it!" a sarcastic voice replied outside, "you have a curious idea of hospitality in there. No matter, I will wait; so you can raise your barrel, for I have no idea of carrying your works by myself."

The Captain reached the intrenchments at this moment.

"What is it, Bob?" he asked the sentry.

"I really don't know, Captain," he answered. "There is a man on the edge of the ditch who insists on coming in."

"Who are you? What do you want?" the Captain shouted.

"And pray who may you be?" the stranger replied.

"I am Captain James Watt, and I warn you that unknown vagabonds are not allowed to enter here at such an hour. Return at sunrise, and then I may possibly allow you to come in."

"Take care what you are about," the stranger said. "Your obstinacy in causing me to shiver on the brink of this ditch may cost you dearly."

"Take care yourself," the Captain answered, impatiently. "I am not in the mood to listen to threats."

"I do not threaten: I warn you. You have already committed a grave fault to-day. Do not commit a grave one to-night, by obstinately refusing to let me come in."

This answer struck the Captain, and made him reflect.

"Supposing," he said presently, "I allow you to enter, who guarantees that you will not betray me? The night is dark, and you may have a large band with you, which I am unable to see."

"I have only one companion with me, for whom I answer with my head."

"Hum!" the Captain remarked, more undecided than ever, "and who will answer for you?"

"Myself."

"Who are you, as you speak our language with such correctness that you might almost be taken for one of our countrymen?"

"Well, I am nearly one; for I am a Canadian, and my name is Tranquil."

"Tranquil!" the Captain exclaimed. "Are you, then, the celebrated wood-ranger, surnamed the Panther-killer?"

"I do not know whether I am celebrated, Captain. All I am certain of is, that I am the man you refer to."

"If you are really Tranquil, I will allow you to enter; but who is the man that accompanies you, and for whom you answer?"

"Black-deer, the first Sachem of the Snake Pawnees."

"Oh! Oh!" the Captain muttered, "What does he want here?"

"Let us in, and you will know,"

"Well, be it so," the Captain shouted; "but I warn you that, at the slightest appearance of treachery, you and your comrade will be mercilessly killed."

"And you will be justified in doing it, if I break my word."

The Captain, after recommending his hunters to hold themselves in readiness for any event, ordered the drawbridge to be lowered.

Tranquil and Black-deer entered.

Both were unarmed, or, at any rate, seemed so. In the presence of such a proof of confidence, the Captain felt ashamed of his suspicions; and after the bridge had been raised again, he dismissed his escort, and only kept Bothrel with him.

"Follow me," he said to the strangers.

The latter bowed without further reply, and walked at his side.

They reached the tower without exchanging a syllable.

The Captain introduced them into the keeper's room, where Mrs. Watt was alone, a prey to the most lively anxiety.

By a sign her husband ordered her to retire. She gave him a suppliant glance, which he understood, for he did not insist, and she remained silent in her chair.

Tranquil had the same calm and open countenance as of yore. Nothing in his manner seemed to evidence that he had any hostile intentions towards the colonists.

Black-deer, on the contrary, was gloomy and stern. The Captain offered his guests seats by the fire.

"Be seated, gentlemen," he said. "You must feel the need of warmth. Have you come to me as friends or foes?"

"It is more easy to ask that question than answer it," the hunter said, honestly; "up to the present our intentions are kindly; you will decide yourself, Captain, as to the terms on which we shall leave you."

"In any case, you will not refuse some slight refreshment?"

"For the present, I must ask you to excuse us," Tranquil replied, who appeared to be spokesman for himself and friend; "it is better, I think, to settle at once the point that brings us here."

"Hum!" the Captain muttered, annoyed in his heart at this refusal, which foreboded nothing good; "in that case speak, and an amicable interview will not depend on me."

"I, wish it with all my heart, Captain; the more so, because if I am here it is with the object of avoiding the consequences either of a mistake or a moment of passion."

The Captain bowed his thanks, and the Canadian went on.

"You are an old soldier, sir," he said, "and the shorter the speech the better you will like it; in two words, then, this is what brings us: the Snake Pawnees accuse you of having seized their village by treachery, and massacred the greater part of their relations and friends. Is that true?"

"It is true that I seized their village, but I had the right to do so, since the Redskins refused to surrender it to me; but I deny that I acted treacherously: on the contrary, the Pawnees behaved in that way to me."

"Oh!" Black-deer exclaimed, as he rose quickly, "the Paleface has a lying tongue in his mouth."

"Peace!" Tranquil cried, as he forced him to take his seat again, "leave me to disentangle this skein, which seems to me very troublesome. Forgive me for insisting," he went on, addressing the Captain, "but the question is a grave one, and the truth must out. Were you not received, on your arrival, by the Chiefs of the tribe, in the light of a friend?"

"Yes; our first relations were amicable."

"Why, then, did they become hostile?"

"I have told you; because, contrary to sworn faith and pledged word, they refused to give up the land."

"What do you say?"

"Certainly, because they had sold me the territory they occupied."

"Oh, oh, Captain! This requires an explanation."

"It is very easy to give, and to prove my good faith in the matter, I will show you the deed of sale."

The hunter and the Chief exchanged a glance of surprise.

"I am quite out of my reckoning," said Tranquil.

"Wait a moment," the Captain went on, "I will fetch the deed and show it to you."

And he went out.

"Oh, sir!" the young lady exclaimed, as she clasped her hands entreatingly, "try to prevent a quarrel."

"Alas, madam!" the hunter said sadly, "that will be very difficult, after the turn matters have taken."

"Here, look," the Captain said, as he came in and showed them the deed.

The two men required but a glance to detect the trick.

"That deed is false," said Tranquil.

"False! That is impossible!" the Captain went on in stupor; "If it be, I am odiously deceived."

"Unfortunately that has happened."

"What is to be done?" the Captain muttered, mechanically.

Black-deer rose.

"Let the Palefaces listen," he said, majestically; "a Sachem is about to speak."

The Canadian tried to interpose, but the Chief sternly imposed silence on him.

"My father has been deceived; he is a just warrior, his head is grey; the Wacondah has given him wisdom; the Snake Pawnees are also just; they wish to live in peace with my father, because he is innocent of the fault with which he is reproached, and for which another must be rendered responsible."

The commencement of this speech greatly surprised the Chief's hearers; the young mother especially, on hearing the words, felt her anxiety disappear, and joy well up in her heart again.

"The Snake Pawnees," the Sachem continued, "will restore to my father all the merchandize he extorted from him; he, for his part, will pledge himself to abandon the hunting-grounds of the Pawnees, and retire with the Palefaces who came with him; the Pawnees will give up the vengeance they wished to take for the murder of their brothers, and the war hatchet will be buried between the Redskins and the Palefaces of the West. I have spoken."

After these words there was a silence.

His hearers were struck with stupor: if the conditions were unacceptable, war became inevitable.

"What does my father answer?" the Chief asked presently.

"Unhappily, Chief," the Captain answered sadly, "I cannot consent to such conditions, that is impossible; all I can do is to double the price I paid previously."

The Chief shrugged his shoulders in contempt.

"Black-deer was mistaken," he said, with a crushing smile of sarcasm; "the Palefaces have really a forked tongue."

It was impossible to make the Sachem understand the real state of the case; with that blind obstinacy characteristic of his race, he would listen to nothing; the more they tried to prove to him that he was wrong, the more convinced he felt he was right.

At a late hour of the night the Canadian and Black-deer withdrew, accompanied, as far as the entrenchments, by the Captain.

So soon as they had gone, James Watt returned thoughtfully to the tower; on the threshold he stumbled against a rather large object, and stooped down to see what it was.

"Oh!" he exclaimed as he rose again, "then they really mean fighting! By Heaven! They shall have it to their heart's content!"

The object against which the Captain had stumbled was a bundle of arrows fastened by a serpent skin; the two ends of this skin and the points of the arrows were blood stained.

Black-deer, on retiring, had let the declaration of war fall behind him.

All hope of peace had vanished, and preparation for fighting must be made.

After the first moment of stupor the Captain regained his coolness; and although day had not yet broken, he aroused the colonists and assembled them in front of the town, to hold a council and consult as to the means for neutralizing the peril that menaced them.